


Plus

by jessalae



Series: Advanced Mathematics for the Casual Time Traveler [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 02:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessalae/pseuds/jessalae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He's as much a part of this marriage as we are." Amy and Rory work out how to romance a Time Lord.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plus

**Author's Note:**

> Set during and after 5x13, "The Big Bang." Originally posted on my Dreamwidth October 18, 2010.

2,000 years was a long time to consider the subject of marriage. It would have been a long time to consider the subject of anything, really, but thinking about how "I'm getting married in the morning" had suddenly turned into "I'm getting married sometime a couple of millennia from now" just seemed to make time move more slowly. Rory spent a few decades on it at the beginning, writing and rewriting his vows in ways that would have made his in-laws think he was more or less crazy:

_Amy, I promise to guard your heart as well as I guarded that giant alien box you were stuck in all these years._

_Amy, I would never want to offer my hand to any other woman, especially considering I might shoot them by accident._

_Amy, words cannot express how glad I am that you chose me over your insane but rather dashing imaginary friend._

And then he made himself stop, and thought about other things for a while, like the pattern of footprints on the floor and how much time it must have taken to hammer out his breastplate. Eventually a real Roman legion came along to take the Pandorica back to Rome, and Rory went with them, of course, pleased by the change of scenery.

Some time later, while he was sitting in a London warehouse counting cracks in the ceiling, his mind wandered back to the subject of marriage. After a few years of fierce internal debate, he decided that the Doctor was so hopelessly entwined in their lives that if he ever wanted to be a part of their marriage, Rory wouldn't object too strenuously.

Then the warehouse blew up.

 

It was June 26th, 2010, and Rory felt like he had been thinking about this day forever. Actually it had only been about a year that they had been engaged, but he had been eight years old the day he had fallen madly, hopelessly in love with Amy Pond, and he thought that ought to figure into it somehow.

It wasn't until a police box appeared in the middle of the dance floor that he remembered he had actually been thinking about it a lot longer than that.

The Doctor danced like an absolute idiot, drawing everyone's attention (as if his entrance hadn't been flashy enough), but Rory noticed that after the initial shock and delight Amy spent about equal amounts of time looking at both of them. He found himself remembering flashes of steel girders and a cracked ceiling in a particular warehouse in twentieth-century London, and decided he'd only keep objecting until they were somewhere a bit more private.

Later that evening, Amy asked him, "Do you think it's goodbye?" He made a split-second decision, the quickest he'd made in a long while, and he knew down to the bottom of his soul that it was the right one.

 

The TARDIS had an official honeymoon suite, somewhere, but Amy had picked the first door on the right and found a bedroom the size of Rory's whole flat, and it was working out rather nicely so far. Her wedding dress was draped carefully over the back of a chair, and the closet was full of selections from the TARDIS's wardrobe: skirts and tights and jumpers for Amy, trousers and t-shirts for Rory, a good pair of running shoes for each of them. Bouncing around in time did funny things to your sleep schedule, but they found plenty of opportunities to run off to bed -- whether they slept while they were there or not.

One morning (or something like morning, because they had just woken up), as Amy stretched lazily, Rory decided to bring up the subject of them and the Doctor.

"Do you still... think about him?"

"Do I what?" Amy said, flopping over and snuggling deeper into the blankets.

"Think about. The Doctor. You know."

"What, _think about him_ think about him?" Amy frowned. "Maybe every once in a while. He is weirdly sexy, aside from the bow tie and all. But I love you." She pushed herself up on her elbows to kiss him. "And you've got everything I need." She slid on top of him, wrapping her legs around his hips.

Rory relaxed into the kiss for a moment, enjoying the slide of skin on skin, and when they came up for breath he sat up, shifting Amy higher on his body. "He could always... join us," he murmured against the side of her neck.

Amy groaned, then froze. "What?"

"I mean," Rory said, licking at the hollow of her throat, "If you wanted. Er. If we wanted. We could ask him."

"D'you think he would?" Amy was fully alert now, eyes wide and bright, not even paying attention to Rory's slow progress down her torso.

Rory actually hadn't considered the Doctor's feelings, somehow. "I don't know. Maybe not." He felt suddenly panicky. "Maybe we shouldn't ask him. He turned you down, after all, I hardly think adding me in is going to sweeten the deal."

"Don't be stupid," Amy said, kissing him on the nose. "He turned me down because I was getting married in the morning. I'm already married now, so what's the problem?"

Rory opened his mouth, but she rolled her eyes and beat him to his objection: " _We're_ already married now. And if we both want him, how can he say no?" She cupped Rory's face in her hands. "You do want him, yeah? You're not just saying this to get me all hot and bothered?"

"I dunno... I dunno if you'd say I _want_ him," Rory said, "but he fits. He just fits, you know?” He swallowed, trying to put words to his thoughts from so many years ago. “It’s like… when we were kids, all you wanted to play was Raggedy Doctor, and he was so much a part of you that I think I sort of fell in love with him while I was falling in love with you. And when he came and took you away, he came back to get me, even though he could have had you all to himself.” He cocked his head to the side, thinking. “And if you think about it, he kind of saved the universe so we could have our wedding. He's as much a part of this marriage as we are."

Amy smiled. "That sounds right to me," she said, and kissed him long and slow.

"So we'll ask him, then?" Rory said.

"Definitely. Later. For now..." she pushed his head back towards her chest. "You can get back to what you were doing."

Rory laughed, and tweaked her nipple between his teeth, and stopped thinking about the Doctor for the next little while.

 

Amy had said it first, and Rory agreed wholeheartedly: if they were going to do this, they had to get it right on the first try. There was no telling what the Doctor would do if they brought it up at the wrong moment. True, he'd probably just carry on being his usual awkward self, but there was always a chance he'd take them back to Earth and leave them, and that was not a fate either of them were willing to face just yet.

Once, they stopped in the middle of the Gobi Desert to refuel. The Doctor was jabbering excitedly about camels and sand dunes and an ancient race of burrowing hominids as he threw open the TARDIS doors. There was a puff of dust and a gust of hot wind, and he shut them just as quickly and turned back towards the console, blinking rapidly.

“Sandstorm,” he said, running a hand through his hair and sending powdery sand scattering across the floor. “No use going outside. We’ll be done here in an hour anyway, we can just wait in the TARDIS.”

Amy looked at Rory and quirked an eyebrow, but one look at the Doctor, who was intent on picking grains of sand out of the tweed of his jacket, told Rory it wasn’t the right time. He shook his head at Amy, doing his best to mime the concepts “too distracted” and “sand in inconvenient places,” and sat down by the console to wait for another slice of time.

 

Another time, they were in their room, just relaxing, when they heard a frantic knock on the door. Rory opened it to find the Doctor, barefoot and dripping wet.

“I found the swimming pool again!” the Doctor said excitedly. “Fancy a dip?”

They stopped by the wardrobe to grab bathing suits and set off through the TARDIS’s endlessly winding corridors. As they went, Rory shot Amy a look. Amy gave the Doctor a once-over, taking in the way his newly-donned swimming trunks clung to his wet legs, the slide of water droplets down the length of his back, and nodded enthusiastically. Rory took a deep breath, mind suddenly racing with come-ons and pick-up lines that all seemed much too small and petty to use on the Doctor.

Then they turned a corner and found the swimming pool. All in all, it was the size of a small lake; at one end, shallow waves broke against a sandy beach, while at the other a waterfall cascaded down a sheer granite cliff. A half-dozen slides of all shapes and sizes were scattered around the edges, and in the middle the water flashed with color over what looked like a miniature coral reef.

Amy whooped and dove straight in, Rory close behind her. They splashed their way around the pool for what seemed like hours, and it wasn’t until the Doctor hoisted himself out of the water and announced he was going to go dry off because his fingers were getting all wrinkly, that Rory realized they had missed their opportunity.

 

Later, they were on Iota Draconis, a planet whose inhabitants supposedly made the best ice cream in all of time and space. The Doctor was finishing up a bowl of fruit-flavored sorbet and chatting with their host, a tall, blue-skinned humanoid, about lodgings for the night.

“We have plenty of accommodations for travelers,” the alien said. “You three will be wanting one room?”

Rory and Amy looked at each other, a silent conversation taking place in their gazes (“Finally!” “Should we?” “Of course, it’s the perfect opening.” “All right, fine with me.”), but the Doctor was totally oblivious.

“No, I think we’d better go with two rooms. These two like their privacy,” he said, then immediately launched into a conversation about a recent disagreement with the neighboring civilization. Amy shot Rory an exasperated look.

“Now he’s on about saving people, we’ll never get a word in edgewise,” she muttered to Rory, taking a big bite of her ice cream and rolling her eyes.

 

“I think we’ve been going about this the wrong way,” Amy said, pouncing onto the bed next to Rory.

“We haven't exactly been doing anything,” Rory pointed out.

“Exactly,” Amy said. “It’s time we took matters into our own hands.”

Rory looked at her warily. “Just how into our own hands are we talking here?”

“I’m not going to just jump him, you prat,” she said, whacking him on the shoulder. “But I think I’ve figured it out. We have to make the right moment come to us.”

“And how are we going to do that, exactly?”

Amy levered herself off the bed and grabbed Rory’s hands, pulling him up after her. “We’re in a time machine, remember?”

Rory swayed, momentarily stunned that he hadn’t thought of that before.

Amy laughed and kissed him on the nose. “Now come on. And follow my lead!”

 

The Doctor was standing at the console, fiddling with a dial that looked suspiciously like the one of those fancy automatic corkscrews. He looked up when they walked in, his expression full of bounce and energy.

“So, where to next?” he said. “I was thinking the Ksora system, they have some lovely scenery, and also might be in the middle of a needless and easily preventable civil war—”

“Actually, I think it’s my turn to pick,” Amy said. “And I want to go home.”

The Doctor stopped short. “Of course, right,” he stammered. “We can go… right back. If that’s what you want.” He looked from her to Rory, who was doing his best to keep his face blank, still not sure what Amy was on about.

“Not to when we left, though,” Amy added calmly. “A bit further back than that.”

The Doctor frowned. “Amy, crossing your own timeline is not something to do on a whim.”

“I know,” Amy said. “But this is important.”

 

They arrived on a sunny Tuesday afternoon, hidden behind a group of trees near Amy’s house. Nobody seemed to be home — her parents and aunt were at work, Rory supposed, and Amy herself would probably still be in school. Still, they crept up the stairs quietly, afraid of disturbing the fragile past.

Amy held her bedroom door open for the Doctor and slipped in behind him, Rory close on her heels. Rory looked around, grinning with giddy nostalgia.

“I remember this quilt!” he said. “I spilled juice on it when we were nine, ruined it, I don’t think you ever quite forgave me.”

“Never,” Amy said, but shushed him with a look.

The Doctor walked a slow circle around the room. The wall was conspicuously free of cracks. Instead, it was covered in pictures: crayon drawings, watercolors, pencil sketches, all of varying skill and detail, all featuring a skinny man with wild brown hair and tattered clothes.

The gate banged open in the garden, and Rory and the Doctor both jumped about a foot in the air. Amy just walked to the window, beckoning them over.

“Shouldn’t we… hide, or something?” Rory asked in a whisper.

“No, I remember this day. We don’t come upstairs,” she said. “Watch.”

Down in the garden, eight-year-old Amelia bounded through the archway, shouting all the while.

“Come _on_ , Doctor, we’ve got to find Prisoner Zero and send him back! He could be in Brazil by now!”

“How could he be in Brazil, they would have stopped him at the airport!” said eight-year-old Rory, a few paces behind her.

“That’s not what you say,” Amelia said, whirling around and bringing Rory up short. “And they wouldn’t stop him at the airport because he’s only a criminal in space. Nobody knows he’s bad here on Earth.”

“But it doesn’t make any sense—”

“It makes perfect sense, Doctor,” Amelia said with the overly polite tone of someone who’s had to give the same explanation one too many times. “Because we can go back to last year in your time machine and grab him before he leaves the garden.”

“But Amelia—”

“I know you know how this goes, we’ve played it before. Now let’s go!”

She turned and raced over to the shed, Rory following reluctantly behind her. Instead of opening the door and going in, though, she fished a piece of chalk out of her coat pocket and stood up on her tiptoes, straining to reach above the door.

“What are you doing?” little Rory asked.

“Finishing it,” Amelia said, and stumbled backwards, the chalk extending the last line down the side of the door. The front of the shed now read “POLICE BOX” in big, lopsided letters. Satisfied, she undid the latch and pulled open the door, imagining steam and wind and strange golden light on her face.

“But I don’t _want_ to be the Doctor again,” said little Rory, “I’ve always got to be the Doctor. Can’t I be the guard, or Prisoner Zero, or something?”

Amelia frowned. “But they’re not the important part.”

“Why not? They’re the bad guys, shouldn’t they be in the story?”

“This story, maybe,” Amelia agreed reluctantly, “But…” She turned to face Rory, suddenly looking very young and very lost.

“There are going to be more stories,” she said, so quietly the trio in the bedroom almost couldn’t hear her. “There’ve got to be, because the Doctor’s going to come back. And once we catch Prisoner Zero, there can be other monsters, but the Doctor’s always going to be there. He’ll always stay with me.”

Little Rory was looking at her with pity on his pale face, but Amelia took a deep breath and continued. “So you’ve _got_ to be the Doctor, you see? I don’t want to send you away at the end of every game. If you’re the Doctor, you can stay with me, and we can have all our adventures together.”

“Oh,” said little Rory slowly, looking quite stunned. “I guess that’s all right, then.”

“Good,” said Amelia, breaking into a wide smile. “Now come on, he might be in Japan now!”

The two of them darted into the shed, little Rory moving much more quickly than he had been before.

“I remember that,” Rory said quietly, back in the bedroom. “That was the first time I wanted to kiss you.”

Amy winked at him. 

“Amy,” the Doctor said, but Amy grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the door.

“Come on, we’ve only got a few minutes before we notice all the spiders and come running inside,” she said.

 

Back in the real TARDIS, Amy tried to sit the Doctor down in one of the chairs by the console, but he popped right back up, looking confused and frustrated and possibly almost scared.

“What was that all about, Amy? Because if you’re trying to make me feel guilty I’ve done a lot worse than show up a bit late to your life,” he said.

“We weren’t trying to make you feel guilty,” Amy said.

“We wanted to show you,” Rory said, coming to stand next to her and taking her hand, twining his fingers through hers.

“Show me what?”

“Well, that I was a shite replacement for you, for starters,” Rory said with a wry grin.

“And that I needed him as much as I needed you, even if I didn’t know it,” Amy added.

“That you’re basically a force of nature.”

“That we’ve still got so much more to learn from you.”

“And that you’re the reason we are what we are, really,” Rory finished, and he squeezed Amy’s hand as she leaned forward and kissed the Doctor.

The Doctor didn’t push her away, which Rory thought must be a good sign, but he didn’t actually move at all, which he wasn’t so sure about.

When Amy broke the kiss, the Doctor was looking at them with more caution than Rory had ever seen him actually use.

“You know you had it wrong, when you were eight,” he said. “I’ll leave you, or you’ll leave me. It always happens eventually.”

“We know,” Amy said.

“And _you’re_ sure about this?” the Doctor said, turning his gaze to Rory. “You weren’t too fond of me when we first met.”

“You ran off with my fiancée on the night before our wedding, and then showed up at my stag night to tell me what a great kisser she is,” Rory said. “But I’ve gotten past all that.”

“He was the one who suggested it, actually,” Amy put in.

“Two thousand years is a long time to think,” Rory added.

The Doctor was silent for a long while, looking back and forth between the two of them.

“Come on, Doctor,” Rory said, “Live a little,” and kissed him.

The Doctor pulled his still-as-a-statue act for a few seconds, and then began to return the kiss with more hunger than Rory had anticipated. Amy gasped and let go of his hand, and then he forgot about her and concentrated on the Doctor’s tongue sliding past his lips and tangling with his own. Rory stepped closer, weaving one hand into the Doctor’s ridiculous hair and gripping his bicep with the other. The Doctor returned the favor, long fingers curling around the back of Rory’s neck and gripping the collar of his shirt. It was different, kissing a man, all flat muscle and lean strength pressing against him. Rory found himself sincerely wishing he hadn’t turned his back that one time in the hospital locker room, then remembered he would probably get to see everything he had missed and more very shortly.

The Doctor shifted his hips forward, and Rory bit down on his lip a bit harder than he’d meant to, not quite ready for the sensation of their erections brushing together and definitely not ready for how _good_ it felt.

“Sorry,” he muttered against the Doctor’s mouth between kisses, “Didn’t mean to— bite you— surprised me— ah,” as the Doctor moved again and a tingle shot straight up Rory’s spine. He found his hands shoving away the jacket and tugging aside the stupid bow tie and pushing down the braces, and the Doctor was exploring the skin just under the hem of his t-shirt, ghosting along his hipbones and across the small of his back.

“Oi, you two,” Amy said. “Remember me?”

Rory laughed and broke the kiss, turning to his lovely wife, who really didn’t look all that put out. “I thought you’d be enjoying the show,” he said.

“Oh, I was,” she purred. “But I got impatient.” She grabbed a handful of Rory’s shirt and pulled him close, kissing him fiercely, all the while unbuttoning the Doctor’s shirt with her other hand.

“You two’ve been talking about this for a while?” the Doctor said, trying to stare down at his chest to track Amy’s progress with his buttons.

“Ages,” Rory gasped in the split-second gap between one kiss and the next.

“Well,” said the Doctor tentatively, “Shall we go to your room, then?”

“Good idea,” Amy said, and started off towards their bedroom, keeping her firm grip on both their shirts. Rory and the Doctor followed, sort of, walking in weird twisting patterns to avoid being dragged along.

They went down the hallway, into the room, and over to the bed before Amy let Rory go, tossing him down onto the bed.

“Been waiting for this,” she murmured, and kissed the Doctor thoroughly. Watching them together, Rory mused, was like watching two storms meet on the horizon, all uncontrolled power and passion. Amy had the Doctor’s shirt all the way undone now and pushed off his shoulders, and he had been toying with the bottom of her jumper, fingers dipping underneath to stroke her sides. Amy made an exasperated noise and pulled the jumper off, and Rory met the Doctor’s eyes in a brief moment of consensus as Rory grabbed her hips and pulled her down onto the bed.

He kissed his way along her throat, licking under her jaw and along her collarbone, as the Doctor tugged off her skirt and tights (getting his hands tangled in the latter for an agonizing moment) and settled on his knees between her legs, mouthing along her stomach and over the waistband of her knickers. Amy gasped and writhed in Rory’s arms, maneuvering so she could unhook her bra and shimmy out of her pants. Rory took her breast into his mouth, teasing carefully with his teeth, and the Doctor pressed light kisses to the insides of her thighs, running his hands up the backs of her legs.

“Oh, _yes_ , boys,” she moaned, and Rory saw the Doctor’s tongue flick out of his mouth, inching closer and closer to her vulva. “Come on, you, don’t make me wait any longer.”

She cried out when the Doctor’s tongue finally found her clit, and Rory was mesmerized by the way he licked and sucked and hit all the places it had taken Rory weeks of not-so-patient practice to learn. The Doctor noticed his gaze and tried to say something, only to have Amy grab him by the hair and pull his mouth back towards her.

The Doctor looked at him helplessly and Rory laughed, glad someone else could be just as overrun by Amy’s passion as he was. He stroked down along Amy’s hipbones until his fingers reached her clit, pressing in quick circles as the Doctor buried his tongue inside her. Amy’s hips bucked sharply.

“Yes, oh yes, right there!” Her cries became more frantic as Rory zeroed in on the right spot, and the Doctor’s tongue slid in and out, curling up with each stroke. “ _Fuck_!” Amy said, her voice cracking, as she fisted one hand in the bedspread and the other in the Doctor’s hair and came. Her body stretched taut, shuddering, and Rory met the Doctor’s eyes and smiled.

The first thing Amy said when she opened her eyes a second later was, “You two are wearing far too many clothes.” She twisted and pulled Rory’s t-shirt over his head and went to work on his trousers, while the Doctor flailed his way out of his shirt. Rory stretched over to help him tug the cuffs over his wrists, and then grabbed the waistband of his trousers and pulled him over towards the bed.

He paused to take a deep breath before undoing the button, and the Doctor said, “Rory…” which clearly meant _Only if you want to_.

“I _do_ want to,” Rory said out loud, and undid the Doctor’s trousers.

By this time, Amy had gotten his own trousers undone so he could wriggle out of them, and then the Doctor climbed onto the bed and they were all there, naked and together and wonderful. Amy shifted until she was on top of both of them, and while she was moving Rory leaned over and kissed the Doctor again. It was even stranger (and even more amazing) to touch him without all his layers of clothes on. The Doctor seemed equally fascinated with Rory, caressing his arms, his chest, his back, his arse. Rory mirrored his actions, so they were almost moving in unison. Amy pushed them closer, watching them intently, and gasped in time with Rory when their erections jarred together.

The Doctor moved against him, a sinuous thrust of his hips, and Rory suddenly had to know what the Doctor’s hands would feel like on his cock. He sucked at the Doctor’s lower lip and reached out tentatively to stroke his erection. Just as he had expected, the Doctor did the same to him, and Rory felt like his whole body was overheating because the Doctor was _excellent_ at this. He immediately fell into a rhythm that left Rory panting into his mouth, hips jerking forward involuntarily. Amy slithered down their bodies and added her tongue alongside the Doctor’s hand, sucking at Rory’s balls and the head of his cock, and Rory fell apart at the seams, shaking and cursing and coming in Amy’s mouth and across the Doctor’s fingers.

When his eyes re-focused, Amy was kissing her way down the Doctor’s chest, teasing his nipples with her tongue, and the Doctor was making the most amazing noises. Rory propped himself up on one elbow and joined her, mouthing over the curves of the Doctor’s abs, and they both reached his groin at the same moment. Their eyes met over his cock, which was probably the weirdest experience Rory had had to date, but he leaned around to kiss Amy, the Doctor’s erection brushing against their cheeks, and everything somehow seemed all right.

Amy pulled away and ran her tongue down the length of the Doctor’s cock, and since her blowjobs had never been anything less than amazing Rory did the same. It was hot and heavy against his tongue, and when he followed Amy’s example and sucked, dipping his head, it filled his mouth rather comfortably. The Doctor panted and moaned and tugged fitfully at the bedspread until Amy closed her mouth around the head of his cock and swallowed him down, and that was apparently enough. He threw his head back, arching off the bed, and after he collapsed, panting, Rory kissed Amy and could taste the Doctor in her mouth.

They crawled up next to him, curling over and around him until they were all three a tangle of limbs, Amy and Rory and the Doctor in the middle. Rory was almost drifting off to sleep when the Doctor made a quizzical noise and sat up.

“Did you two cross your own timelines just so I would… do this?” he asked.

“I suppose we did,” Amy said.

“Amy, that’s very dangerous, I shouldn’t have let you—”

“Do you wish we hadn’t?”

The Doctor floundered for a moment. “Well. No.”

Amy grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back down. “Then stop complaining.”

A few more moments of silence, and then the Doctor spoke up again.

“But next time, just ask me, won’t you?”

“We will,” said Rory, and twined his fingers through Amy’s, feeling like all the pieces of his life finally fit.


End file.
